The Breakup
by briroch
Summary: Mike Stone and Steve Keller are at odds and are looking for a way to make up. This story was inspired by the way Mike apologises in various episodes of the series. My first effort to write fanfiction...


**The Breakup**

_Steve's POV_

Mike Stone- Lord, I love the man, I'd even admit it to his face without being too embarrassed. He's the father I never had, sometimes the mother I barely remember now. I'd lay my life down for him any day. But there are other days when I'd gladly kill him ...

I don't mind that half the department calls me Mike's buddy boy behind my back and the other half to my face. I don't mind the assortment of pet names he bestows on me, I don't mind him pushing me about, interfering with my private life. Most dressing downs I take without flinching, I know he has a temper and sometimes I even deserve it when he lays into me, but this morning- well, he pushed me too far...

It really began the night before when he dragged me away from a dinner date with my girl on a night I wasn't even on call. I had made the reservation for the restaurant weeks before- you have to for that kind of place- and I had the little jeweller's box stashed away in my pocket, just in case I found the courage and the opportunity to pop the question when who pops up- but Mike? As I said, I wasn't even on call and I had requested that night off weeks ago. Am I the only detective in Homicide who can accompany him? Let me tell you, my girl was less than impressed when I upped and left and to be honest, I was glad the ring was still in my pocket. If she reacts like that before there is an official understanding, what would she be like as a policeman's wife?

What I got the following morning when I picked up my car from her place after having worked through the night, was something else. She had my marching papers ready, put me back into circulation and told me in no uncertain terms that she would not be willing to be number four in my life, having to contend to come after Mike Stone, the job and Mike's daughter Jeannie. She couldn't make up her mind about the number one, but neither can I... She told me a lot of things that must have been on her mind, oh, being at Mike's beck and call, wasting my time and talent on a dead end job, not really being in love with her, but with Mike's daughter, being completely dependent on Mike's approval. The rest I forget, or maybe I stopped listening. I just wondered why she stuck with me for so long...

All the time Mike was outside, he must have heard some of it, at least the yelling and clattering. He could have just gone on to the Bureau in our car and left me there to sort out things. Then I could have followed him in my own car, but no, he had to wait. Probably on standby in case I needed the cavalry. Exactly what my ex girl, because at that stage it was my ex girl, wanted to see. A grinning Mike Stone waiting for me when she kicked me out of her place and threw my car keys at me. I ducked Mike's hand that was reaching for me as I passed him and quickly got into my Porsche. I wasn't in the market for any public display of affection right in front of her window, was I? Besides, I could feel a headache building up. Tension headaches, one doctor called them, migraine, the next. I call them the bane of my life. I remember being dragged from doctor to doctor when I started getting those headaches. The shrink probably got the closest when he proclaimed them as the somatic manifestation of great emotional distress or something along these lines. On the positive side I must say that the headaches serve a purpose, they really blank out any emotional distress, because they are so fierce that they keep me from thinking about anything at all, well, except maybe- where I last saw the headache pills or will I make it to the bathroom before I start chucking up. Mind you, I don't get these headaches a lot nowadays, the old family doctor was right when he said I'd grow out of them. But when I get them, oh my! I just want to be alone and crawl into a dark space and be miserable on my own. As I said, it's rare now, but when I get them it's almost impossible to shake Mike off, because he thinks I'm in a distress and need company. I suppose I would prefer the company to the headache, but there is not really a choice, is there?

Anyway, what am I blathering about, I was talking about this morning, wasn't I? I arrived at the Bureau after a sleepless night, with a headache building up and I was feeling pretty sore, torn between heartbroken and relieved about the narrow escape. Mike descended upon me straight away. I know he meant well, but he was as blunt as a plastic knife. Mind you, for a while I was quite happy to let him fuss over me, rubbing my tense back muscles and making sympathetic noises, but when he decided it was time to cheer me up, that was when the sh... hit the fan. "So you got your release papers and you're back out on the streets? Well, someone else got his release papers, too" and he proceeded to tell me that he decided to let our main suspect go, the one we spent all night chasing down and interrogating, and all in the few minutes it took me to walk up from the car park to the office with a quick stop in the bathroom to splash some water in my face. I looked at him in disbelieve. "You what?" "Let him go, you know, I've got this hunch..." Oh yeah, the famous hunches. How can I, a mere mortal with a logical brain, compete with Mike's hunches? I think I let an expletive or two slip and you know how Mike is when it comes to profanities. I must say now that Mike was as tired as I was, but it still is no excuse that he gave me a dressing down in front of everybody. You know, he normally drags me into a quiet corner before he lays into me, but not so this morning. One word led to another and for once I didn't take it without talking back, my head was killing me, which Mike of course wasn't aware of. But still, he shouldn't have lifted his hand and threatened to slap me, even if it had been a joke. "When will you ever stop treating me like a child?"I shouted as I stormed off. "When you stop behaving like one" he called after me when I slammed the door.

I went straight to the pharmacy across the road, only to hear that I needed a new prescription. All they could give me were some over the counter painkillers, which I knew would do nothing for my killer headache. I then stopped at the canteen for a bite to eat before I started popping the pills, but I knew I had to go back up there soon, or I'd really risk the Wrath of Stone.

Anyway, I hadn't quite made up my mind how to play it, I hate it when I'm at odds with Mike, but I didn't want to give in too easily. Mike greeted me with a smile. Nope, mate, that's not good enough!

He fiddled with some change and offered me a cup of coffee. First of all, my slightly dodgy stomach couldn't process another coffee and besides, accepting the coffee means that I have accepted an unspoken apology. Not this morning, no sir!

He swallowed and went into his office and came out with a bag of doughnuts, the smell almost turned my stomach, I. He opened the bag and held it under my nose. I had to avert my face and make some lame excuses for not accepting one, while I could feel the scrambled eggs chasing the slice of toast up and down my throat. Mind you, a coffee and a doughnut equal an apology for unjust treatment alright. Still I decided to hold out for a little while longer; after all he had partly caused the breakup with my girl by dragging me out of my engagement party. I was wondering what he'd do next, try and soften me by being affectionate, or actually apologise, when the phone rang.

Our former main suspect for a shooting the night before, who thanks to Mike's hunch was back out roaming the streets, was in yet another shootout, the second in twelve hours, this time not suspected but for sure. Mike grabbed me by the arm and dragged me with him. The look on his face told me it that a wise man would keep his mouth shut and resist any quips, but I never claimed to be wise- more of a wise crack- and besides, my head was killing me. The reply I got, in fairness to Mike, was well deserved, but did nothing for the situation. Who owed who an apology now and for what? Especially the -for what? - bit kept puzzling me. Anyway, it stopped me from opening my big mouth again until we reached the location.

Our man was hiding out in a disused warehouse and there were plenty of black and white units around, but it surely needed someone like Mike to defuse the situation. All joking aside, this is something he normally does to perfection, but this morning he wasn't exactly on top form either and according to his hunch our man was basically as harmless as a bunny rabbit, so he went in before I could say or do anything. When I heard a shot and saw Mike going down, something snapped inside me. No way I'd let someone kill Mike before I was through with him! I ran in and jumped on top of him, shielding him with my body. I couldn't let the old fox die while he was still mad at me. I counted the shots while I hoped for some sign of life from Mike. I don't know what I said, but it definitely was an apology from my side, if anything a tad hysterical. When the uniforms moved in and disarmed our man with the now empty gun, I felt Mike's arm snaking around my waist. "Are we cool now, buddy boy?" he said and grinned. The lengths the man will go to avoid an apology!

Now, Lenny, is that enough of an explanation why I need a prescription for my headache tablets?

THE END

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